


It Should Not Be This Awkward

by EmmaShalForever (thokin)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mentions of Hook and Hood, also a slight trigger warning for sort of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 05:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6142624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thokin/pseuds/EmmaShalForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The evolution of Emma and Regina's relationship seen through Henry's eyes.<br/>Aka SwanQueen and Regina/Henry and Emma/Henry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Should Not Be This Awkward

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime after Emma and Henry's fake/cursed memories, but ignoring the Dark Swan arc, I think.
> 
> A thank you to my special Beta, forgetthesun, for always finding something to pick at. All mistakes are still my own.

**The one where Emma tries to include her son on a date.**

“Hey, kid,” Emma says as they wait for the next round of Mario Kart to begin. Henry glances over at her to show he’s listening. “Do you want to join me and Hook out for dinner at Granny’s one night?” The game starts the countdown and he presses the accelerate button perfectly, getting the boosted start.

They used to do this all the time in New York when they had fake memories. It’s always been hard for them to sit down and discuss serious stuff, so they pretend it’s just a casual conversation instead; keeping their focus on the game so they don’t have to look at each other and see the awkwardness, frustration or, occasionally, the hurt.

“Isn’t he supposed to be your boyfriend?” he asks, scrunching his nose as Ma hits him with a red shell and races passed him.

“He is, why?”

“Why do you keep calling him that and not by his real name?” He’s almost 14 and he thinks he has an idea why. Ma has been an orphan most of her life, abandoned by people nearly every step of the way. She’s used to being on the move. He’s read about it on the internet and she’s what the psychologists like to call a runner. Someone who’s uncomfortable with commitment and expectations.

“I don’t know, habit I guess.” She curses under her breath when she swerves into a banana and Henry re-takes the lead from her. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question,” she tells him, glancing over briefly to gauge his reaction.

“I don’t know. I’ve read about being the third wheel.” He groans when she hits him with a Thunderbolt. The round is almost done and he’ll most certainly lose now.

“What? No, you wouldn’t be. You’re my number one man, you know that.” He grins at Ma and reluctantly offers her a high five when she wins. He’ll take her on the next course. “I just thought maybe you should spend some time with him, you know, without cursed memories; get to know him.”

Henry huffs. “He tries too hard.” The countdown for the next round begins on the screen again.

“You don’t like him?” Ma asks. They both miss the boosted start.

“He’s okay, I guess. Could really use a wardrobe change though.” Ma snorts and they share a brief look of amusement. “Does he only have one piece of clothing? It doesn’t seem very sanitary.”

He does not get asked about dinner again and the next time he sees Hook, he’s wearing normal clothes and not looking very comfortable with the change at all.

**The one where Regina wants to make him bond with her boyfriend (and decides it’s a bad idea).**

“How would you feel if I invited Robin over for dinner?” Mom says as they’re measuring and depositing chocolate cookie dough on the baking tray. He knew she wanted to ask him something because she never allows him cookies on a weekday, but he doesn’t understand why she had to work up the courage to ask him something so uninteresting.

“It would be okay, I guess,” he tells her, noting how her posture relaxes slightly at his response and wondering what the big deal is. “I can show Roland my new comic books and console-games.”

Her hand with the spoon of dough freezes halfway to the tray and he doesn’t understand what he said wrong. “Oh,” she breathes, a long moment passing before her hand jerks back into motion. “It would be just Robin.”

Henry furrows his brow and glances over at Mom. “Why?” he asks, suddenly suspicious. Mom looks kind of uncomfortable.

“I just thought we could all spend some time together; get to know one another.”

“I don’t need to hang out with your boyfriend, Mom,” he tells her and makes a face. He remembers catching Mom and Robin kissing when he didn’t have his memories and it’s already gross enough to imagine your parent having a love life. He doesn’t need to see it too. 

Mom’s face immediately morphs into a look of concern. “You don’t like him?” she asks, gaze piercing and making him want to duck away from it. He shrugs.

“I don’t know. He seems fine.” And he does. He’s your perfectly regular, totally gallant dude. He seems nice. And so utterly, ridiculously  _dull_.

“But?” she prompts and he shrinks a little under her scrutiny. There’s no good way he can explain to her that he doesn’t think Robin is the perfect fit for her because he seems content to follow Mom’s every word. Mom doesn’t need someone who never challenges her and never questions her. He hasn’t ever seen her as the Evil Queen and how can he fully understand her if he’s only ever seen the good parts? Like, where are the sparks between them? When has Mom ever looked  _ excited _ with him? Oh God, that totally sounded like something naughty and he really doesn’t want or need the thoughts he’s getting right now.

“He just seems so boring.”

Mom cocks a brow at him, hand at her hip and looking imperious, but not angry. “I see,” she tells him, but he’s pretty sure she doesn’t. He’s totally hurt her by saying that, hasn’t he?

“I mean, I want you to be happy, Mom,” he offers in a rush of breath, hoping to pacify her. “It’s just that no kid wants to see their parents together with someone.”

“I see,” she says again and her posture does relax this time. He releases a relieved breath in his mind and gives himself a pat on the shoulder. Crisis averted.

“I mean, I said the same thing to Emma,” he offers, hoping it will draw her attention away from his blunder. Mom’s brow rises again, interest piqued.

“She wanted you to bond with the pirate?” Mom is pretending to be casual, but he can see the hunger in her eyes for information. He doesn’t know if it’s because she doesn’t like Hook in general or doesn’t want Hook around him. There’s some kind of complicated history between Hook and Mom that he doesn’t understand. He’d asked Emma once about it, but she said her guess was as good as his. He’s not sure if she was lying or not.

“I don’t want to be the third wheel. Besides, I like how it is now,” he tells her. 

And it’s the truth. Emma comes over for dinner twice a week and then they all go to Granny’s or Snow’s on the weekend. There’s minimal arguing and they’ve started to feel like a family. Things are almost normal.

But if Hook shows up, Mom gets snippy and closed off, throwing insults and scowling more often than not. And if Hood comes, Ma becomes grumpy, frowning at everyone and looking more like a sad puppy than a grown woman who saved the entire town.

No, he really doesn’t want to bond with either of them. He’d rather it be just the three of them; he and his two moms.

When they’re alone Ma is always grinning like a kid at Christmas and Mom’s smile is loose too, always a funny quip on her tongue. When they’re alone, Ma and Mom share laughter and tag team him when they play games – ‘ _ it builds character and teaches you how to handle losing, kid’, Ma tells him when he complains and Mom tries to keep a straight face but fails  _ – and Ma says something obscene about how good the food is and Mom beams at them and pretends to roll her eyes.

“You’d never be the third wheel, Henry. You’ll always be the most important thing to me.”

“I know that,” he says, pretending to grumble when she pulls him into a hug.

Robin never comes over for dinner.

**The one where the boyfriends come to dinner (and it’s the most awkward thing EVER).**

“You hiding in here?” Regina asks softly after knocking tentatively at her son’s door before entering. Her teasing tone and gentle smile is just shy of completely genuine. Henry has learned most of his Mom’s smiles. She’s worried. Which isn’t all that weird considering he just turned down dessert and asked to be excused.

He shrugs and pretends to read the comic book in his lap, which isn’t really an answer, but still let’s his mother know that yes, he is.

“What’s bothering you?” she asks, voice soft and calm as she takes a seat at the edge of his bed, hand subconsciously moving to rest against his leg. 

He doesn’t know if the silent silent comfort of her touch is meant for him or herself, or if it’s just her way of showing him that she loves him and is there for him, but he likes it. She always gives him her full attention and never mocks him when he tries to make sense of what he’s thinking or feeling and it makes it easier to confide in her.

Part of him feels ashamed that he treated her so badly after finding out he was adopted and getting that fairytale book. Former Evil Queen or not, Regina has always been Mom and she’s always been patient with him. Lots of kids never have that. He knows because he’s had the odd, awkward conversation with Emma about it. And they both agree that except for the time Regina tried to make him think he was crazy, Mom’s been really cool.

“I don’t know. It was just weird.”

“What was?” she asks, still patient, still smiling gently, and his chest suddenly hurts for no obvious reason other than that he almost lost this. He’d never admit it out loud to anyone, but he’s an idiot for ever thinking that he could live without Mom.

“Everything I guess.” He sighs, throwing the comic on his nightstand carelessly. It’s not like he was reading it anyway. He takes a moment to try to gather his thoughts, grateful that Mom is silent and knows not to push; that he’s figuring out what to say, not trying to be difficult. 

“It’s awkward with them here. Tense.” His eyes move around the room, unable to meet hers as he tries to put words to what he’d felt at the dinner table. She might be his Mom and she might never dismiss his feelings, but it’s still hard to be honest sometimes when you don’t know if what you’re admitting might hurt her. “It feels wrong.”

Mom doesn’t say anything for a long time and he’s worried that she’s angry or disappointed. 

“What about it feels wrong?” she asks when she does finally speak and her voice hasn’t changed so he chances a glance at her to gauge her reaction. She doesn’t look angry or hurt. Maybe concerned. Her brows have furrowed slightly, but that’s the only change he can see.

“I don’t know,” he tells her again because it’s really hard to put his finger on it and try to explain. His own brows furrow and he releases a frustrated sigh at how hard it is to try to get it to make sense to someone else. “It’s everything. How you act, how you talk. It’s like you and Emma don’t know how to be around each other with them here.” 

He looks at her again and yes, she’s definitely worried. There’s a crease between her eyes now and her smile is gone. She still doesn’t look angry though, maybe thoughtful, so he decides it’s safe to continue. “I don’t like how you are with them here. It doesn’t feel like family. I like it better when it’s just you, me and Emma.”

He waits with bated breath for her reaction. Is she going to scold him? Dismiss it? Tell him they all just need time to adjust?

“Thank you for telling me, Henry,” is what comes out of her mouth. She even gives him a small smile and squeezes his leg where her hand is resting in encouragement. “I agree.”

“You do?” he asks, surprised. She nods.

“I’ll talk to Emma about it,” she promises, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “Come down in 30 minutes and we’ll have dessert, okay?” He scrunches his face at the thought of having to endure more awkwardness and Mom gives him an amused smile. “Just the three of us, I promise.”

He smiles back and nods his head.

Killian Jones and Robin Hood never come to dinner again.

**The one where the boyfriends become obsolete (and Henry is very okay with that).**

Henry Mills is totally not trying to eavesdrop on his two moms. He’s just making sure they’re not arguing. Because Ma came over in a tizzy and Mom took one look, heaved a sigh and ushered the woman into her study.

“Snow doesn’t understand why I refuse to bring Hook to family dinners,” Emma says and Henry knows from her tired voice that they’ve had a fight. Every so often Ma and Grandma will get into it because Emma likes things to be easy and uncomplicated and separate. And Snow just wants everything all at once, expecting it to be easy to adjust for everyone. Grandma always seems to be pushing his mothers’ buttons.

He asked Mom about it one night and she told him it’s because Snow just wants everyone to be happy, but she hasn’t been through the things that Ma and Mom has so she doesn’t always understand that people sometimes need time and space.

There’s the sound of clinking and Ma muttering something followed by a moment of silence so he’s pretty sure they’re drinking Mom’s apple cider.

“I tried to tell her that we don’t bring the boyfriends because Henry likes our family as it is.”

Mom snorts. “I can see where this is going. She thinks we’re coddling him or something, right?”

“Or something,” Ma agrees. “I won’t get into the details of what was said, but I had to leave. She’s not very happy with me.”

Mom makes this weird noise he can’t quite pinpoint. It might be annoyance or it might be amusement. Maybe both. “She’ll get over it,” Mom says and yes, it’s definitely both. 

His legs are starting to cramp in his crouched position by the door. He should probably try to sneak away. They’re clearly not going to hurt each other.

He’s just starting to move his feet slowly when Mom says, “Why  _ don’t _ you bring Hook?” And there’s something in her voice that makes him freeze. “I know we say it’s for Henry, but you’ve been together for a while now and if you wanted to, I’m sure he’d adapt.”

Ma speaks some low words he can’t make out before offering in a shy, vulnerable voice he’s rarely heard before, “Maybe I like our family as it is too.” He has to strain to hear the words because they’re so soft and he can’t help but feel like he’s overlooked something deeper here; some hidden meaning. 

Silence stretches and he thinks he’s missed something before he hears Mom’s voice. “I like it too.” And her voice is just as gentle, just as uncertain, and he really wishes he could see them right now because there’s definitely something more they’re talking about here.

“Maybe,” Ma starts, voice shaky. He can’t make out the rest of the words because she speaks so low, but after a moment he hears Mom speak Ma’s name. 

“Em-ma,” she says and it sounds like she’s on the verge of crying, like she’s finding it hard to breathe. 

His legs are screaming at him and he doesn’t understand where it all went so bad that Mom is crying and he doesn’t want them to go back to being enemies. Doesn’t want to go back to tense encounters and splitting his time between them and feeling like they’re competing for his affection.

He’s brought out of his spiraling thoughts by a sound from the other side. He furrows his brows in confusion because didn’t that sound like a moan? He stops breathing as he strains his ears and there’s wet, smacking sounds now. And yes, the next thing he hears is definitely a moan.

He scrunches his face in disgust. Are his moms  _ making out  _ in there? He nearly falls on his ass, but manages to brace himself just in time. His topple still makes a dull noise and he closes his eyes while he waits for Ma and Mom to open the door and bust him.

The barely discernible sounds from the other side of the door don’t stop though and he breathes a silent sigh in relief and horror as he slowly, carefully, crawls away.

He has a feeling his moms won’t be having boyfriends for long. Which works just perfectly for him, even if he’ll probably be scarred for life.


End file.
